


Left-Hand Side

by nelliecrain (orphan_account)



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Comfort, Damerux, Drunkness, Gingerpilot, Happy Ending, Hux is not okay, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, Mildly Dubious Consent, because they’re drunk, but it doesn’t go far, mentions of self harm, mentions of transphobia, trans!hux
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 06:46:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14255268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/nelliecrain
Summary: A little Trans!Hux for the soul





	Left-Hand Side

The greatcoat was like a blanket that shielded him from everything outside of his little world. It was large enough to obscure his frame and even add a little bit more to him, something that helped him to appear more menacing than he feared he actually did, and warm enough to help him fend off the chill of living on a Star Destroyer.

He was thankful for this shield of his. It wasn’t often someone he respected or wanted the respect of would see his frame sans coat. The medics, however, were well acquainted with the General’s problems. His anemic tendencies, his lithe and frail form, and his identity.

Really they were the only ones beside Phel he could trust with this information. For fear of ridicule or doubt from his superiors and Ren especially. He’d learned that lesson soon enough, that he could not let others in emotionally if he ever wanted to succeed.

His father made sure he knew that. 

Through the stripes of scars carved into his pale flesh to and burns on his arms, his wrists. Countless mars that Hux strives to cover with long sleeves and a brave front. 

He still had the nightmares, the ones where that man- Brendol- had ingrained shouts into his minds. 

“You’re delusional.”  
“Nothing but a scrap.”  
“You’re barely a girl, barely anything at all.”

The growls and yells marked him as deep as the scars.

He remembered so little however of his childhood beyond those memories in the form of cruel shadowed dreams. 

The psych aboard the Finalizer informed him he was blocking out harmful memories. That was ridiculous, Hux figured. Those memories were what formed him into who he was now, weren’t they? Brendol’s lack of mercy, each cruel stroke, that was only to make him stronger.

There was one memory Hux could scrape up. He’d done something wrong- cut his hair. He still remembered the fiery locks as they clogged the sink, the determination and satisfaction as Hux could look in the mirror and see himself as he wanted, not as he was.

That had earned him nothing more than another tally mark across his back.

“You’ll never be a man. You’ll never be anything.”  
“Thinner than a slip of paper and just as useless.”  
“As competent as one, too.”

This was no time to feel bad for himself. He had plenty to do, and only so much time in the day cycle to do it.

With a flick of his coat, Armitage Hux was pacing through the dark and silver-lined halls of the Finalizer to the bridge.

He never had confidence in the way he presented. That was stripped from him long ago. Each side-glance from a pair of officers or a lieutenant rushing down to deliver something. Hux knew they weren’t looking at him. Hux knew they weren’t judging him.

It still made him afraid to think so.

—

By the time Hux had retired to his quarters, back aching and throat burning from barking orders all day- he noticed several pings on the surface of his datapad.

“Hey Huuuugggss!

Text bacckk!

Tonight? How bout 2200 hours 

Cmon Gingerbell...”

Before another message could appear on his screen Hux grabbed the pad and quickly typed back;

“I was working, Poe.”

He bit his lip. Thumb hovered over the keys on the screen. 

“Tonight is perfect. See you then.”

He flipped the thing face down before he could see whatever sweet yet so annoying thing Dameron would respond with.

Despite his flaws, someone Hux found a genuine love for that damned pilot.

It was already 2100 hours, so that meant Hux had only so much time to get ready before he set off to whatever backwater planet Poe was planning.

They’d been dating for two months now. 

It was never serious, Hux made Poe know that he wouldn’t get far until he felt he knew Poe well enough and the pilot assured him he understood completely and would respect those boundaries.

It was a wonder they even met. And a danger, at that. It should never have come to this. It really was only one drink, but things escalated quickly and soon enough they were planning dates every few weeks to try to slip past their superiors their painfully elusive love.

Would it be so much easier to let go of him? 

He knew Poe was gay. That was obvious. But what hurt Armitage was not knowing what he would think of...

No. This was no way to think. 

He needed to stay positive.

After a quick shower, he dried his ginger hair with a towel, taking note that he’d have to let it grow in some more. He’d just cut it, taken a little too much off the top-but that was what he got for using rightie scissors.

Being left-handed felt wrong sometimes, especially when everything else in the world was made for someone you weren’t. You were the outlier, the one who wasn’t made according to plan. A mistake, if you will.

A dry laugh escaped Armitage’s lips. 

A mistake. All of it was like a sick mistake.

—

He reached planetfall only half an hour late, the unmarked shuttle landed in a roughed looking bay, and the General palmed over a handful of credits to the employee, mostly for his silence.

He was dressed oddly compared to his usual outfit. Nothing with any noticeable logo, nothing tight to his skin. Baggy. Blanketing. Obscuring. 

This planet made him endlessly uncomfortable. It was full of urchins and marketeers probably selling under the table stims or seds. Hux didn’t put himself above slipping some stims when he needed to stay up, but those were all medbay issued. He didn’t too approve of those who’d given up on life.

But who was he to judge those who wished themselves death or, another life? Too many times he considered that an option. Too many times he wanted to escape. Many of his scars were dedicated to that. Remembering he was alive.

He tore himself from his thoughts with a sharp breath as he stepped into the bar Poe had picked out and a blast of warmth hit him from the heated indoors. Only the barkeep turned to look at him. There was a Twi’Lek passed out on the bar, however, a human and a Keshian sitting in a booth to the left, and a couple of others playing some kind of native card game on a rounded table. 

Hux spotted Poe instantly.

And the night went so well.

Too well.

—

He was drunk. He had the consciousness to realize that, at least. His stomach felt warm, his head dizzy and a permanent edge of a smile graced his lips. 

Poe was before him, all charisma and golden eyes. Those rough hands from work and piloting skimmed his sides and Hux wanted to kiss him there and then. 

And he did, leaning in to press their lips together as Poe’s hands worked at his belt. 

He knew where this was going. 

They both did.

Hux was too enamored to even consider this was wrong. Poe was drunk, so was he! Not to mention supposed to be mortal enemies, not lovers!

But then those hands were tugging at his shirt and the fabric brushed his pale stomach, the femininecurve of his waist and hips...

He jumped back with a soft cry of panic and hands wrapped around his middle instantly. Back pressed against the wall of the cheap motel, eyes wide- frightened.

And then he looked to Poe.

The pilot stared at him, mouth just parted in shock. Instantly Hux felt as though he’d done something wrong- as he was sure Poe felt. 

And then he turned cold. A defense mechanism. 

“This was a mistake.”

There was a silence, neither dared to move closer or even breath.

“Armitage...” Poe’s voice was hurt. Terrified. Terrified of hurting the one he loved.

“I’m sorry I-“ he felt a choking sob cut him off and bit the side of his cheek. No. He could not cry here, not now... 

“Armitage. You don’t have to...” Poe took a tentative step closer as if approaching a caged animal. “What did I do?”

“You didn’t,” Hux let a single tear free, but that was all. He would not be weak. 

“You know I love you...”

“I know...” another tear. Salty and hot that dripped down to his chin. 

“Please, ‘Tage, what’s wrong?” Another step closer. Careful and gentle that made Hux’s heart jump. 

His hands shook like the room was freezing cold. Slowly, his own touch pulled the shirt over his head and he let it fall to the floor. 

“Oh, baby-“

“Please don’t.” Hux interrupted, and he couldn’t bring himself to look the pilot in the eye. “Please don’t say anything. Just-just go if you don’t... if..”

He took another step so only inches kept them apart. But Armitage didn’t shy away, didn’t flinch back. 

“Love, you’re beautiful.” Poe closed the space between them, warm hands grasping his sides and placing a kiss on his collarbone, just above where the binder obscured his chest, his femininity, everything he hated so much. “Oh, stars, Gingersnap, you’re beautiful.”


End file.
